Feeling Groovy

I thought it was the rousing game of Apples to Apples.

Slapping down those cards with aplomb and yelling that, indeed, there is nothing more unloving than an octopus was, in my opinion, an exciting event of grand proportions.

Or maybe it was the company, swapping witty repartee concerning Girl Scouts with 5 o clock shadows clutching a box of cookies with hairy hands saying, “I gotcher thin mints ritchere pal,” that was so absolutely entertaining.

We shared humorous anecdotes like teenagers swapping spit behind the bleachers during half time. I was at the top of my game. I was stoked like the effigy on the bonfire, only less scratchy. I was floating ethereally like a fat wisp of milkweed, swiffing in and out of metaphors and anecdotes.

It had to be some pretty good hummus! Chickpeas. Brainfood. Or the Colorado night air.

Then I happened to glance over at the bottle of Diet Sunkist with my super eye dilated powers and realized that in the last hour I’d inhaled about 2 liters of unadulterated caffeinated carbonated heaven in a plastic urn of love. I’ve been inadvertently drugged by the joint authority of Dr Pepper/7up, Inc, Plano Texas and Sunkist! Boo! Boo I say! And yet, what light and fruity flavor.

My friend told me, “I think you’re funny when you’re drunk on caffeine.”

“I’m not drunk on caffeine!” I said, and to prove the point, I squinted my dilated pupils and tried not to burp.

“You’re so funny! You need more caffeine!”

“No! I know my limits. I can stop anytime I want to,” and raised my pinky and sipped daintily. Knowing it a clever thing to always change the topic at strategic moments, I grabbed a plate of crackers. “Honey,” (for we all know that food-change discussion works for me on so many levels with my kids), “could you please cut the cheese for our guests?”

That was the wrong thing to say. The room erupted. And not with cheese.

Still, it has been a fun evening, thanks to my friend, the remover of all idiot filter brain functions, the otherwise innocuous Diet Sunkist bottle filled with orange bubbly hope.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go whee.

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Stay safe, stay sane, and stay decaffeinated after 8pm.

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